


got you a present

by scorpiohs



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Birthday Sex, Bottom Bucky Barnes, Brief Mention of Steve's Body Issues, Bucky is only a Little bratty, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub Undertones, First Kiss, First Time, First Time Bottoming, First Time Topping, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Internalized Homophobia, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Masturbation, Mutual Pining, Nipple Play, Pining, Post-Coital Cuddling, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Pre-War, Tipsy Bucky, Top Steve Rogers, Virgin Steve Rogers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-23
Updated: 2020-07-23
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:08:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25453669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scorpiohs/pseuds/scorpiohs
Summary: Ever since the rationing went into effect, Steve has taken half of his daily coffee grains and stored them away. Sure, that means he drinks his cup even more watered down than he has to, but by the time it’s Bucky’s birthday in a week, he’ll be able to give his best guy something he actually wants (he usually can’t afford whatever that is.)None the wiser, Bucky pouts, and Steve tries to ignore the flutter in his chest, going back to his sketch.“Whatcha drawing?” Bucky leans back against the pillows, hands behind his head.“The city.”Bucky always asks the same question, and Steve’s answer never changes. Bucky never asks to see the art, thank God, and never finds out that he’s almost always lying.It’s not like Bucky would mind, necessarily. The drawings usually aren’t compromising, he wouldn’t come to the right conclusion… probably.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 26
Kudos: 319





	got you a present

“Buck, you’re being awfully unpatriotic,” Steve chastises from the windowsill. His mind is in his sketchbook, and he’s in no mood for Bucky’s whining.

He gets it anyway. “Look, I’m all for the war effort, but coffee? They’re gon’ take our coffee?”

Steve can hear Bucky rattling around with the empty brewing pot in the kitchen, and just rolls his eyes. “You can get by with a little less coffee.”

Bucky comes over to the couch near the windowsill and flops back on it, declaring, “The thing is, I don’t know if I can.” He cracks a grin at Steve, who can’t help but blush a little at the bright smile.

Sometimes, when Bucky’s bored or wanting a little extra attention from Steve, he turns into a ‘drama queen,’ or so Steve likes to say. He tries to rile up his friend in any way he can, and today, he has chosen to complain about coffee rationing, even though it’s nothing new, in place since November. They’d had to go without coffee sometimes during the Depression, and both of them had been just fine.

What Bucky doesn’t know, and what Steve doesn’t want him to know, is that Steve already is giving him his full attention; he’s penciling out a sketch of him as they speak. He tilts the book away from Bucky. The man’s got wandering eyes.

“It’s the least we can do,” Steve says, looking down at Bucky sprawled across the couch, eyes closed. He picks up his own mug, which he’s been sipping all day, savoring it and stretching it out, because what? He loves coffee, too.

“Well, if you’re so in love with Uncle Sam, then, you won’t mind giving me your share,” Bucky says, propping himself up on his elbows, noticing Steve’s cup.

“Nuh-uh, no way,” Steve replies, cupping the mug closer to his chest. “I’m supporting our troops, but I need my fill, too.”

Another thing Bucky doesn’t know is that Steve already is giving him his share of the coffee, too. Ever since the rationing went into effect, Steve has taken half of his daily coffee grains and stored them away. Sure, that means he drinks his cup even more watered down than he has to, but by the time it’s Bucky’s birthday in a week, he’ll be able to give his best guy something he actually wants (he usually can’t afford whatever that is.)

None the wiser, Bucky pouts, and Steve tries to ignore the flutter in his chest, going back to his sketch.

“Whatcha drawing?” Bucky leans back against the pillows, hands behind his head.

“The city.”

Bucky always asks the same question, and Steve’s answer never changes. Bucky never asks to see the art, thank God, and never finds out that he’s almost always lying.

It’s not like Bucky would mind, necessarily. The drawings usually aren’t compromising, he wouldn’t come to the right conclusion… probably.

After a few minutes, Bucky declares, “Well, since I don’t have work today, and you won’t give me any of your coffee, I’m going to take a catnap.” He bounces off the couch and heads to their bedroom, as Steve rolls his eyes.

He looks down at the Bucky in his sketch, one he had started drawing last week: smiling, hand running through his hair after a long day on his feet. His stomach flips when he thinks about where else he wants Bucky’s hands. _No_ , he says to himself. _Don’t go there._

So he shuts the sketchbook and holds it close to his chest before laying down on the couch. He’ll nap, too, and do everything he can not to dream of Bucky.

* * *

There’s a close call, with both the coffee and the drawings, a few days later.

“Steve, I’m gonna wash your sheets, alright?” Bucky calls from the hallway.

Steve shoots up from the couch and chases Bucky into their room, where he already has his hands on Steve’s pillow.

“Wait!” Steve cries, then winces at his outburst.

Bucky gives him a funny look but freezes. “What?”

“Nothing, I- I just- you don’t have to wash them,” Steve replies, his face hardening. He might as well go the whole _don’t take care of me, Buck_ route. It’s the most believable.

Bucky lets go of the pillow and sighs. “I’m doing mine, just thought I would throw them in.”

Steve crosses his arms over his chest. “I did mine a week ago.”

“Fine, whatever you say, pal.” Bucky gives up and strips his own bed instead. “Don’t gotta freak out on me. Just laundry.”

Steve sits down on his bed, attempting to guard it until Bucky leaves. “Know that, it’s just… You do a lot for me, Buck.”

Their eyes meet and Steve knows what he said comes across more sad than grateful because Bucky tears his gaze away almost instantly and keeps taking his sheets off his bed. He doesn’t have to say anything, Steve knows how he feels: Bucky cares about him, wants to help him, wants to protect him. _Would he feel that way if he knew-_ Steve cuts himself off. He’s spiraled over this before, he’s sure he will again, but he’s not gonna do it right now.

Instead, he gives Bucky a small smile and adds, “Thank you.”

“Anything for you,” Bucky says, lighting up immediately.

It scares Steve sometimes, how much control they have over the other’s emotions. He guesses that’s what it means to be close to someone, but it doesn’t make it less terrifying. All he wants is for Bucky to be happy. He doesn’t wanna mess it up.

Which is why Bucky can’t strip his bed. Not only would be more likely to find the coffee stash in the corner on the floor under Steve’s bed, but also the little drawing tucked into Steve’s pillowcase. And that- that would change everything.

It’s of Bucky, naked, laying on his back, on his bed. One of his hands is gripping the sheets and the other’s wrapped around his dick. His face is tight, eyes squeezed shut, on the verge of release.

Steve doesn’t usually draw such filthy stuff, but he had the image in his head and he had to shake it out. Not that drawing it stopped him from thinking about it. Thinking about what it would be like to have Bucky underneath him like that, willing to do things neither of them had ever done. Thinking about the noises they would make and-

He took it out of the sketchbook as soon as he was done. If Bucky found it, if he happened to flip through his drawings… And it doesn’t hurt that it’s now easier to take it into the shower shall from time to time.

Steve falls back onto his bed and lets his head press down onto the pillow, protecting his secret.

“Got any plans for your birthday yet?”

“My parents want to have dinner,” Bucky says, stripping his bed on the other side of the room. “But the night before, we should go dancing.”

Steve groans. “Buck, you know I’m no good at dancing.” Not to mention the girls, the rejection, the jealousy that comes with it.

“C’mon, Steve, I don’t wanna go alone,” Bucky whines.

“I’m sure you’ll find some company,” Steve grumbles, sounding moodier than he intended.

“I don’t want company, I want you.”

Steve’s heart almost jumps from his chest but he looks up at Bucky, who’s just collecting the sheets, oblivious to the effect of his words.

“I’ll be here when you get back,” Steve replies, shuffling in the bed a little.

Bucky clears his throat, making Steve meet his eyes, before saying, “Okay.”

Steve’s gaze falters, and he feels guilty. But this way he can set up the coffee, maybe brew Bucky an extra cup, and they can hang out and talk all night, like the good old days. He’ll make Bucky forget all about the dancing dames.

* * *

The next few days Steve doesn’t see a lot of Bucky. Usually, Steve catches him before his shifts in the morning, but he keeps waking up to an empty apartment. He doesn’t like it, but Bucky must just be trying to get better about being places on time. It’s never been his strong suit. _Growing up after all_ , Steve thinks.

Meanwhile, Steve’s hands are itching to draw Bucky again. He wants to visualize what Bucky looks like when he kisses someone. He’s always thought about it, but recently, he can’t stop imagining Bucky kissing him, hands cupping his cheeks.

Steve knows he’ll never get to experience it himself, but even just to see it- Bucky’s much too respectable to really go to town on a dame in front of Steve, or out in public- just to see it on paper, laid out in front of him…

The problem is, Steve’s never been kissed, never kissed anyone, and doesn’t know anything about it apart from the movies.

Sitting on his bed cross-legged, he sketches an outline quickly, not enough to tell who the subjects are, but can’t get the lips meeting right. He finds it ironic and actually quite fitting for the situation, but it doesn’t ease his imagination. In fact, his artistic frustration is quickly replaced by a physical counterpart as he feels himself getting hard.

“Damnit,” he whispers, shifting back on the bed.

Bucky shouldn’t be home for a few hours… They share a room, so he tries not to do this in here, but what’s the harm when Bucky’s not around?

He doesn’t even bother getting undressed, sticking a hand down his pants, which instantly relieves some of the tension. With just a few short, harsh jerks, he’s almost there, Bucky’s face at the front of his mind. He wonders what Bucky looks like when he comes. What he would look like making Steve come. What he would look like with a cock in his pretty, pretty mouth, tongue swirling around the tip. Telling Steve to fuck his face. Swallowing whatever Steve gave him.

It’s that idea that pushes Steve over the edge and before he can stop himself, he’s chanting, “Bucky, Bucky, Bucky,” under his breath as he slows down his pace.

Defeated, he leans back against the wall and yanks his hand off of his dick. He cleans himself up feeling ashamed, but can’t shake the image of Bucky on his knees.

* * *

On Tuesday, Steve gets home from work to find a note from Bucky, saying he’s already gone out for his birthday dancing. Sighing, he doodles a little flower on the note, the kind he imagines Bucky would hand a girl before asking her to join him on the floor, before tucking it into his pocket.

Later, Steve is sitting at the kitchen table, fingers drumming on the surface as he looks at the coffee collection he’s compiled. It’s all in tins, which Bucky will probably think are empty when he first sees them. Steve can’t wait to see the look on his face when he tells him he’s wrong.

He puts a drawing he actually did of Brooklyn on top of the tins. He doesn’t like to think it, but one day Bucky’s number is gonna be called, and he’ll have to go fight. Might be nice to have a piece of home with him, Steve thinks.

Bucky bursts through the door a few minutes later, visibly a little tipsy, grinning and humming to himself. Steve brightens at seeing him so happy (even if it was a night on the town without him that made him so.)

“How was it?” Steve asks, leaning back in the chair.

Bucky doesn’t notice his present yet, just hangs up his coat and spins around. “Lovely. I wish you were there, Stevie.”

Steve’s chest tightens at the nickname, and the sentiment, but he ignores it and says, “Got you a present.”

Bucky stops flitting around enough to notice the pile on the table and his face twists. “What- is that…?”

“Coffee,” Steve replies with a grin. “I’ve saved up enough for you to quit your whining for a little, at least.”

Bucky walks closer. “Steve-”

“Yeah, you can save it with the ‘thank yous,’ I already know how grateful you are for me, and what a fantastic best friend I am-”

Steve cuts himself off mid-ramble because Bucky’s picking up the drawing. His lips part slightly as he studies it, and it looks like he’s about to say something, but he doesn’t.

“Buck?”

Bucky sighs, then puts the drawing back on top of the tins before meeting Steve’s eyes. “You know, I was hoping for one of your other pieces.”

“Uh- you don’t- you don’t like it?” he asks, standing up to face Bucky.

He pauses. “I know you’ve been drawing me,” Bucky mumbles, looking down at his hands.

“W- what?” Steve’s eyes widen, out of fear, and of feigning confusion.

“I mean, I found one drawing, uh, of me, and I figure that’s why you won’t let me see the rest of them and-”

“Which one did you find?” But he already knows. There’s only one that’s out of his sketchbook.

Bucky just keeps babbling. “Thought you might be keeping love letters from some broad under there, I just wanted to check and- yeah-”

“When?”

Bucky finally looks him the eye. “I saw it when I was picking up your pillow the other day, all folded up and I know I shouldn’t have, but I went back later and looked.”

Steve’s face is on fire. His whole body, really. His secret, his shame, the thing that will ruin everything with his best friend, his family, the person he loves. It’s out. There’s no putting it back, but he has to try.

Bucky is standing perfectly still, watching Steve slowly lose it, calm as a cloud in the sky. Steve can’t help but think about how beautiful he looks, even then.

“Look, you gotta understand, I- I didn’t mean for you to see that.” His voice is trembling. “It was just something in my head and I know it’s gross and I’m so sorry. I can’t-”

Before he can finish, Bucky surges forward and presses his lips onto Steve’s. Steve freezes, his eyes wide open, face still red. After a few seconds, he gets it together enough to kiss back, but Bucky’s already pulling away.

“Sorry, I-” Bucky stammers, running his hand through his hair. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Steve says, but it comes out in a whisper, his voice still caught in his throat.

“Do you-” Bucky won’t look him in the eye, just keeps looking down at his hands. “Was that- Is the drawing- is that how you feel?” It comes out rushed and Steve might be more anxious if Bucky hadn’t just kissed him. He can’t feel anything but that kiss right now.

“Yeah.” There’s no point in hiding it now, even if his heart is beating out of his chest.

Something in Steve softens when Bucky finally meets his eyes and says, “Really?”

Steve just nods and asks, “Do you… do you feel that way?”

“Yes,” Bucky says instantly. “I mean, if I’da known, Stevie, you gotta know- I’ve felt this way for years.”

Steve’s head is spinning, in the best way. _Years?_

Though he would normally consider himself good with words, he can’t find any to describe the sheer amount of _everything_ that he’s feeling, so he takes a page out of Bucky’s book and just steps forward, grabs the back of Bucky’s neck and brings him down to kiss him again.

Bucky groans into the kiss and puts his hands on Steve’s hips, and Steve revels in how big they are on his small frame, finally, _finally_ feeling a little appreciative of his own body. Bucky towers over him, but Steve’s not fragile, and based on how much noise Bucky is making just from Steve running his hands through his hair, Steve would say he’s the one in charge.

Testing the theory, he moves his lips down to Bucky’s jaw, overeager, almost biting but not quite. He hasn’t quite figured out how to ignore his teeth in all this, but maybe he doesn’t have to because Bucky is squirming and gripping his hips like he’s gonna melt.

“You gonna let me take care of _you_ for once?” Steve asked, moving down to kiss Bucky’s neck.

Bucky just hums in agreement, combing his fingers through Steve’s hair now.

“I’ll let you go another time,” he promises between kisses, “but you’re the birthday boy, mm, and- I just wanna make you feel good, Buck.”

Bucky knows Steve hasn’t done this, _any_ of it, before. Steve knows that his inexperience must be glaringly obvious. But Bucky doesn’t say anything, just lets Steve work him over with his words and his mouth. And that, to Steve, feels like the real gift.

He slides his hands under Bucky’s shirt after untucking it from his pants, and with his hands pressed to his chest, he stops kissing Bucky’s collarbone to whisper, “Take this off.”

“Okay,” Bucky replies immediately, his voice strangled. He fumbles with the buttons and when Steve meets his eyes, they’re dark and _wanting_. He thinks he can get used to Bucky looking at him like that.

Bucky tosses his shirt, and his undershirt, to the ground and starts pawing at the hem of Steve’s, who almost whines at the motion.

But, as usual, his best friend knows just what to say. “You’re beautiful, Stevie,” he whispers into Steve’s ear. “Beautiful.”

So Steve blushes and brings his lips to Bucky’s again, trying to tell him with a kiss how much he means to him. It’s not enough, he could kiss him forever and it wouldn’t be enough, but he thinks it’s okay. He thinks maybe Bucky already knows.

Steve unbuttons his own shirt and lets Bucky run his hands up and down his torso, who swipes his thumbs over Steve’s nipples as he does.

“Fuck,” Steve mutters, closing his eyes and looking towards the ceiling. He can’t help it, he juts his hips forward and grinds on Bucky’s leg.

“What was that about taking care of me?” Bucky mumbles into Steve’s ear, taking his turn at Steve’s neck.

“Shut up,” he replies, taking Bucky’s right nipple between his fingers and lightly squeezing. Bucky practically whimpers and tightens his grip on Steve’s shoulders. “Yeah, feels good doesn’t it?” Steve mocks, smiling.

“Shut up,” Bucky repeats, but he smiles, too, before pulling Steve in for another kiss.

They kiss for a few more minutes, hands roaming and gripping and tensing until Steve breaks away. “Bedroom?”

Bucky just nods furiously and kisses Steve again and Steve feels like he’s going to melt away. He’s _kissing_ Bucky. This is real.

Since Bucky’s only goal at the moment seems to be making Steve’s chest feel all fluttery, Steve takes it upon himself to walk them back into their bedroom.

Bucky makes a pouty face when Steve pulls away again, but someone has to keep them moving along.

“Mine or yours?” Steve asks, looking at their beds, before remembering that he’s supposed to be the one calling the shots.

Bucky doesn’t seem to mind. “Mine,” he tells him. Steve raises an eyebrow at him. “What?” Bucky asks. “My sheets were washed more recently,” he says, grinning.

Steve rolls his eyes and gently pushes Bucky down onto the bed before crawling onto his lap.

“Hi,” he whispers, before kissing Bucky’s forehead and steadying himself on his shoulders.

“Hey,” Bucky says, smiling like an idiot. _My idiot_ , Steve thinks.

Before Steve can work himself into overthinking the fact that he’s here, with Bucky, a man, his best friend, his everything, he grinds down on the bulge in Bucky’s pants, which elicits a groan from both of them.

But he can’t ignore everything. “You really wanna do this?” Steve closes his eyes and rests his forehead against Bucky’s, and braces himself for the answer.

Bucky cups his cheek and meets his eyes. “Yeah. Do you?”

Steve breathes into a smile. “Yeah.”

Bucky ruffles his hair. “Okay. Good.”

“Good?”

“Good.”

Steve beams and kisses Bucky again. He can’t stop kissing Bucky.

Bucky, meanwhile, gets his hands on Steve’s belt and starts to undo it. He palms Steve’s cock through his underwear before sliding his fingers under the band of them.

“Here, let me get up,” Steve says, panting.

He climbs off of Bucky, who lays back on the bed, and Steve’s reminded of the picture he drew. From the look on Bucky’s face, Steve can tell he’s thinking about it, too.

“Didn’t think I’d actually get you like this,” he admits, shucking down his pants and tossing them on the floor. He reaches for Bucky’s belt and starts to take off his pants, too.

Bucky puts his hands behind his head and relaxes back. “Me, neither.”

Steve’s fumbling with Bucky’s pants and he wishes he could be as calm, cool, and collected as Bucky is right now. When they’re just left in their underwear, he freezes.

“You good?” Bucky asks, reaching out to caress Steve’s hip.

“Yeah, I just-” Steve’s so embarrassed. “I’ve never- I’ve never done this.”

“I know.” Bucky’s expression is soft. “Me neither, with a fella.” Steve takes a deep breath, and Bucky continues: “I have, uh, by myself before though.”

That earns him an eyebrow raise. “You mean…”

“More than just jacking off.”

“You…” Steve is amazed. For all the years he’s been having queer thoughts, he’s never thought to do _that_ to himself. “With what?”

“My fingers,” Bucky says, dragging them across Steve’s chest. “Always pretend they’re yours, though.”

Steve’s hips jerk forward involuntarily. “Buck…” he groans.

“Or if I got a lot in there, I pretend it’s your dick.” Bucky’s got his hands around the band of Steve’s underwear, so he gently tugs it down. His cock springs free, hard as all hell and red, ready. “I knew it was big,” Bucky says, unable to tear his eyes away.

“It’s not,” Steve blushes, letting Bucky pull his underwear the rest of the way down.

“Bigger than my fingers.”

“Show me.”

Bucky rolls his hips at that, and as Steve tugs down his underwear ( _“You’re big, too”_ ), Bucky reaches behind himself and under his pillow to pull out a small container of slick.

“Mm, looks like I wasn’t the only one keeping secrets under my pillow, huh?”

Bucky just slaps his arm lightly, and opens the container, coating his fingers excessively.

“Probably won’t take that long, I’m probably pretty loose from the last time I did this,” Bucky says, positioning his fingers at his hole. His dick is leaking precome onto his stomach and all Steve wants to do is reach out and touch it, but he refrains, for now.

He’s kneeled between Bucky’s legs, hands on his thighs, watching in awe. “You did this… recently?”

“This morning, when you were in the shower.”

Steve’s jaw drops a little. “I thought you were going to work.”

“Probably was there by the time you got back, but before… I mean, it’s a good thing you take long showers.” Bucky winks before sliding his pointer finger in. His face scrunches up and he lets out a shaky breath.

Steve’s too fascinated to respond to the cheeky comment and instead just asks, “Does it hurt?”

“A little, in a good way,” Bucky grunts, pumping in and out of himself.

Steve can’t look away. It’s so hard for him not to reach between his legs and take care of himself but he’s not going to. He’s going to get off _inside_ Bucky. That’s worth waiting for.

He rubs small circles into Bucky’s inner thigh instead. “And I take long showers for a reason,” Steve grumbles, acknowledging Bucky’s taunt from before.

“Oh, really?”

Steve knows what Bucky’s trying to do. He’s being pushy but his wrecked voice gives him away. He wants Steve to _talk_.

The sexual nature of the conversation is new, but this back and forth banter is not, not to them. Steve has no reason to be nervous. He’s good at getting Bucky riled up. Apparently even so in bed.

“Mm, you want to hear about them?” Steve asks, gripping Bucky’s thighs and leaning forward slightly.

“Yeah, baby,” Bucky moans, adding a finger.

Steve’s chest clenches up at that, but he keeps going. “You want to know what I was thinking about this morning?”

“Please,” Bucky breathes.

“Was thinking about what it would be like to suck you off.”

“Fuck, Steve-”

“Thought about your dick in my mouth while I was fucking my hand,” Steve whispers. “Had to be quiet, though. Didn’t want anyone to hear me moaning your name.”

Bucky’s free hand flies to his cock, which Steve has been ignoring, and starts to stroke himself while he fucks his fingers into his ass.

“Hey, hey, hey, don’t get ahead of yourself there, pal,” Steve reprimands, tapping the hand on Bucky’s cock. Bucky immediately presses it to his side, needing nothing more than a touch to be good for Steve.

“I’m ready,” Bucky tells him, grabbing his neck and bringing him down to kiss him. “Please.”

“Please what?” Steve teases between kisses.

Bucky looks him dead in the eyes and says, “Please fuck me.”

Suddenly, it’s not a laughing matter anymore, and Steve scrambles to the drawer between their beds. For Christmas, he’d gotten Bucky condoms as a joke, telling him that as more men shipped out, his luck with the ladies was going to be even better in the new year. If someone had told Steve then what the condoms were actually going to be used for, he never would’ve believed them.

“Hurry up,” Bucky whines, holding Steve’s hips steady as he rolls on the condom.

“Patience,” Steve chides.

The scolding only encourages Bucky, who’s practically writhing on the bed. “Please, Stevie,” he whimpers.

Practically rushing at this point, he grabs the slick and works it over his condom, and puts a little bit more on Bucky’s hole, for good measure. Steve positions himself at his entrance and takes a deep breath. Pushing in slowly, both he and Bucky let out long moans.

“Fuck,” Steve sputters.

Bucky puts his hands on Steve’s arms. “You feel so good,” he groans, jerking his hips, trying to get Steve to move. But Steve is frozen; this feels so good that he thinks he might shoot off as soon as he tries to properly fuck Bucky.

“I’m not gonna last long,” he admits, slowly pulling out before driving back in.

Bucky grunts, “Good, me, neither.”

Steve keeps the torturous pace for a little bit, going slow but slamming back in hard. It’s the only way he can keep himself from coming, but it doesn’t hurt that Bucky lets out the sweetest little noises every time he does it.

He’s positioned himself so that he’s holding Bucky’s shoulders, leveraging them to thrust forward, and at an angle where he can still kiss Bucky, intercept some of his moans.

“C’mon, Steve, fuck me,” Bucky hisses.

“I thought that’s what I was doing?” Steve smiles.

Bucky just cries out and digs his fingernails into Steve’s arms. But Steve can’t say no to him, so he stops holding himself back and starts jutting his hips forward at a quicker pace and at an angle that has Bucky practically screaming.

“Right there, right there,” Bucky yelps.

Steve knows they’re both almost there, so he grabs Bucky’s cock and starts tugging like his life depends on it, and that does it. Bucky’s wailing and spurting come onto his stomach and clenching down on Steve’s dick and it sends Steve over the edge.

He slams in one last time and stays there before collapsing on Bucky’s chest. They’re both reduced to panting, sweaty messes, Steve’s body sprawled on top of Bucky’s, their breathing in sync.

After a few minutes, Bucky just says, “Wow.”

“Good wow?” Steve asks, lifting his head from Bucky’s chest to look at him.

“Good doesn’t even begin to cover it.” Bucky runs a hand through Steve’s sweaty hair.

Steve lifts his hips and slips his softening cock out of Bucky, and they both groan at the loss. He slides off of Bucky and tucks himself into his side.

“What time is it?” he asks.

Bucky lifts his head to peek at the clock on the nightstand. “Like 12:30.”

Steve smiles. “Happy birthday, Buck.”

“Oh, yeah, that’s today,” Bucky says with a grin. He wraps his arm around Steve and pulls him closer.

Steve sighs and settles into Bucky’s cuddles. “Don’t know how many celebratory activities we’re gonna be able to participate in. I think we’re gonna be pretty tired tomorrow.”

“Good thing we have a lot of coffee,” Bucky says, kissing Steve’s cheek.

**Author's Note:**

> ahhh i hope you liked this!! i made it super self indulgent, i love artist steve and virgin steve and dramatic confessions and bratty bucky and pre-serum top steve :) come talk to me on tumblr about all of these things and more stevebucky stuff @scorpiohs or preferably on twitter @sunstarsteve <3


End file.
